


The headaches will come (but at least you can breathe)

by little_giddy



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 22:32:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_giddy/pseuds/little_giddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tag for Blye, K. pt 2: contains spoilers. 'Oh, so you think you know me like that.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The headaches will come (but at least you can breathe)

Kensi feels the back of Deeks’s hand graze her good side as he passes her by the desk. It’s nothing but an accident until he gives her that quirk of a smile he’s too good at and blinks, and then he’s gone.   
  
She takes a breath once he’s gone. It’s the first time she’s alone since the bathroom, since the phone call, and it’s the first time she’s felt like it.   
  
She’s not ready for that yet.   
  
*  
  
The sight of her apartment makes her hand itch for the gun she left in her glove compartment, like there’s a space at the base of her back, like she’s walking into any other crime scene.   
  
The files she hid for years have been opened on her computer, they told her that. The gun she cleaned is carefully - respectfully - set in a place she didn’t put it. It’s lucky she owns less than she could, because it’s all out for anyone to see.   
  
She’s not ready for that, either.  
  
*  
  
Kensi stands by the door of her car and braces herself against it. Her first instinct is to run. Work isn’t work when it’s the gym and the only lights in the main hall are leaking from Eric’s video games upstairs. Nell has a tiny spare room and wouldn’t comment if she showed up, Kensi knows. It wouldn’t be the first time and somewhere on cable, four episodes of  Top Model  reruns are just kicking off. Deeks isn’t always in. Like he keeps telling her, he has this whole  social life  thing, but Kensi’s willing to bet he’s not out tonight and his phone is on the arm of his chair, just in case. It makes her stomach clench.   
  
Somehow that’s the thing that gets her in the car and driving.   
  
Because it’s okay if she doesn’t.  
  
*  
  
With the team, Kensi doesn’t need to ask if they’re proud of her, because it was looking out of them when she walked in, like she ran a marathon or did something wonderful, not what she did. It’s funny how the first thing she wants her mom to know is that she’s proud of herself.   
  
*   
  
She wakes up on her mom’s couch. She doesn’t remember falling asleep there. Except now everything, and she means  everything,  hurts. The new stitches are tugging like hell already, her left side is one long bruise (ugh, it feels  purple  or  green  and that usually takes days). There’s a heaviness in her limbs when she shrugs up to sitting position that speaks to a sudden lack of adrenaline in her system and not enough sleep.   
  
Her phone and wallet are placed neatly by her keys on the table by the couch. Her shoes and jacket are neatly lined up beside it. Kensi swallows and taps her phone. There’s a picture message under the clock - 0530 - bottles of beer in a fridge. Under the phone, there’s a piece of white paper with two phone numbers and an email address on it. Kensi’s eyes cloud over as the part of her that can’t stop reading people as potential suspects with behavioural patterns rears its head: her mom, taking care of her, asking her to stay in touch, telling her it’s okay she’s going to run before she wakes up.    
  
It’s a lot.   
  
So she runs.  
  
*  
  
How useful her great adventure was mid-week off-peak. It’s not like anyone would have blinked if she’d taken the next day, but it makes her feel better that it’s hers by anyone’s measure, and that she gets to slip back into the routine on Monday. It suits them.  
  
It’s been a long day.  
  
She parks outside her place long enough to look at the door with a wince. Just once, it felt pretty damn good to say it. There’s been a lot of long days.   
  
Then she drives in the other direction from her mom’s place.  
  
She lives twenty minutes away.   
  
It crosses her mind that Deeks was so shocked because it’s the same length of drive she does to his.   
  
*  
  
‘Got your text.’   
  
Kensi sees him blink and take out an ear bud as she holds up the picture of the fridge with the beer.   
  
‘Bit early, doncha think? Barely eight am, Kens.’ He spreads his hands. ‘But hey, no judgement. Judgement free zone.’  
  
‘Actually,’ Kensi slides down from the hood of the car with a wince, ‘I wondered how you felt about an alternative workout.’   
  
‘I’m gonna help you move your furniture, aren’t I?’ Deeks gives her an eyebrow.   
  
‘Yup,’ Kensi replies cheerfully, nodding when he puts a hand on the driver’s side door. ‘And you’re gonna enjoy it. There’s pizza in it and everything.’   
  
‘Pizza is a dinner meal. We’ll be done before then, right? Right?’ Deeks counters, more for the sake of replying, she thinks, because he’s already pulling out of the lot and reaching for the radio. ‘So I know this great grocery store that still gives away used boxes.’  
  
Kensi looks down at the dashboard and then tilts her head with a smile. ‘Oh, so you think you know me like that.’  
  
‘Yup,’ Deeks doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but his hand does graze the back of hers as if by accident. ‘I really do.’  
  
 _It’s been a long day._  
  
She turns her hand palm up and catches his before he moves away, swiping her thumb across his knuckles before letting go. It feels good to say it for once.   
_  
But I made it._


End file.
